Outcast
by Kixxy
Summary: A short work from Julie-Su's point of view. Hunted by the Dark Legion, frowned upon in Echidnapolis, just where is she meant to be?


Outcast  
  
A Sonic the Hedgehog Fanfiction by Amy 'Kixxy' Lawson  
sailor_vanilla@hotmail.com  
  
  
It's not like I'm an alien.  
  
But that's how I'm treated and looked at, isn't it? Like an alien, or  
some mysterious... THING that nobody has ever seen. Just look at all the  
other echnida I pass on the street. They glare, they cower in fear, they  
pull their children back, and sometimes they even spit on my face. They  
run and they fear. Like I'm something that's going to kill them. Who  
*doesn't* act like that?  
  
I guess I don't make friends that easily, anyway. Knuckles, just about  
the only one who *talks* to me now, started out our 'friendship' by  
attacking me. Or maybe I attacked him first. What's the difference? I'm  
not sure if he even trusts me, or if he acts like I'm his friend because  
he feels sorry for me. Me being such an outcast, and all.  
  
And take Vector. To tell you the truth, he attacked me first... I simply  
fought back... and suddenly, *I'm* the enemy. I'm not sure why, but I  
generated an immediate and profound dislike to the crocodile, and have  
no need or wish to stop the feeling. It's mutual, anyway.  
  
It's not fair. A robotic part on your dreadlock here, a partially  
robotic limb there, and everyone reels away from you. Is that really  
all right? Is that really fine?  
  
It's gotten to the point where I don't want to show my face in public.  
Why? Everything I am and do is criticized. They don't approve of the way I  
dress... they don't approve of the way I act... they certainly don't  
approve of my looks... and they don't approve of me hanging out with  
Knuckles and his friends.  
  
Why me? I almost wish I had remained in the Dark Legion. I wasn't an  
equal there... Kragok and Lien-Da seemed to despise me... yet I found  
comfort there. They didn't shove me aside because I thought the  
decision to renounce technology wasn't such a hot idea, or because I had  
a fully robotic dreadlock on my left side. They looked and felt the  
same; and it was like I finally belonged somewhere.  
  
But then fate took another turn and I was stranded, and meeting  
face-to-face with the Guardian... alone. Needless to say, either my  
priorities changed or I was really woozy from both of my battles. I  
switched sides. I'm not even sure what possessed me to drop everything  
then and there, yet something just... happened.  
  
Opportunity knocked, and the legendary Dimitri returned me to the Dark  
Legion, where I had spent most of my memories. But... something was  
wrong... and something was strange. It was like I didn't belong there  
anymore. The friends I used to have, well, *weren't*. Nothing was like  
what I remembered. Nothing was like it used to be. But it wasn't them...  
it was me. I felt wrong. And I didn't know what I would do.  
  
So the move from Legionnare to ex-Legionnare the second time around was  
my choice, and not the work of fate's cunning tricks. But unfortunately,  
Constable Remington jailed me for treason. I guess my connections with  
Knuckles allowed not only my freedom, but my membership to the Chatoix.  
All seemed to be right with the world.  
  
But now, more than ever, I was "a freak". How the people look at me now!  
Like I'm nothing but dirt, or someone that's going to rush them with a  
gun and kill them on the street! I feel like everyone wants to kill me,  
first. When me and Knuckles go for a walk or whatever, poor Knuckles gets  
eyes turned strangely and sympathetically at him, like he's baby-sitting  
me... or like I've brainwashed him with more of that Dark Legion  
treachery. I can't be trusted, my arm's robotic. Gasp! I'd hate to be in  
Mobotropolis, or Knothole, or wherever Knuckles told me the Robotosized  
Mobians live now.  
  
Why can't everyone just leave me alone? Why won't anyone just let me be  
myself, and look at me how I *really* am - someone who's not going to  
kill anyone, but rather, someone who just really needs someone to talk  
to, and a shoulder to lean on. That's all I want. That's all I ask for.  
But whether or not I get it, that's another story.  
  
To all the outcasts on the Floating Island or the entire planet of  
Mobius, I feel your pain. You've all been cast aside for one reason or  
another, just like myself. You, just like me, must be stranded and hated.  
Maybe someday, somewhere, someone will hear me and understand. Maybe  
they'll understand how I feel, and try to make friends with me, and  
treat me like I really belong.  
  
That's all I need and all that I want.  
  
But aliens don't get that.  
  
And I'm an alien. 


End file.
